Cry Wolf

By Abigail Falanga

“Wish it was harder to believe you’re dirty, Ed,” the captain muttered, slapping handcuffs in place. “You made it easy for us.”

The case of laundered bills had given him away, but the insult still rankled.

Ed Johnson stewed on it the whole ride to the precinct, was still stewing as they led him to his holding cell for the night.

With a crude comment from the night guard, the gate slammed shut, Ed on the wrong side. Alone, except for a man huddled in a hoodie on the corner of a bench-bed.

“Great,” Ed grumbled. He jammed his fists into his pants pockets.

“No.” The man groaned and hunched even smaller. “They said I’d be on my own—”

“Look, pal, I don’t want to be here anymore than you do.” Ed ground his teeth.

Silence for a few seconds.

“Ed?”

The voice was familiar. Ed looked closer as a pale face showed from under the hood.

“Oh, geez. Perfect. Of all the luck, I get you as a cellmate!” Ed swung to peer out sanitized bars at a gray cinderblock wall and a reinforced window, overlooking a parking lot and a wedge of sky. “Declan Marks. You do realize I’ve spent the last three weeks trying to keep you out of jail, right?”

“You can’t be in here!” Declan’s moan was barely distinguishable as words. “You gotta get outta here, before it’s too late.”

“Heh. You’re telling me.”

Ed stared at the window as the streetlight blinked on. He didn’t see much point in managing his anger—never had. But right now, anger wouldn’t get him anywhere.

He paced three steps in and fell on the other bench bed. “Four weeks, Marks, spent covering up that… incident. You were a good informant—the best I ever had.” He snorted a half-laugh. “My one chance of actually going legit. And ya blow it all, end up in jail! What’d you do?”

The other man—little more than a kid, really—rocked on his bench, hugging himself. “Got myself arrested. The only way. But—” He choked a sob. “They took everything. My silver cuffs and chain!”

Geez—the guy was nearly white, slick with sweat, eyes bloodshot.

“They take anything like that in case you’re a suicide risk. Had a shrink talk with you yet?”

“Nah. They said they’d bring one in, but everyone was busy. Some Milner case.”

“Yeah, that was my end. They must’ve caught a break.” Ed leaned against the wall. “And I was so close. That information you were giving me—it was almost enough. The details about the contraband your company was getting in would’ve taken down the Milner company from the outside. Without me having to show how I knew there was something to look for in the first place.”

“The contraband…” Marks laughed crazily. “You think that’s what this is about? That first shipment—who brought it in, what they brought with them—that’s what they’re covering up. I warned you! But you didn’t believe me. And now—”

“Can’t believe I’m hearing this again.” Ed’s lip curled. “It’s a rumor, Declan. A stupid-ass urban legend. Assaults around the city, and what do people blame? Werewolves, of all things! Well—we’ve checked it out. No werewolves.”

“It’s true!”

Ed snickered.

“Has the sun set?”

“Almost.”

“Oh my god…! You gotta get outta here! The werewolves—”

“Look—shut up, OK? I put up with it out there, but I don’t care in here!” Ed stood and paced. “Shrink better get here soon.”

“I’m not crazy!” The huddle of clothes straightened. “I’m trying to warn you—”

Two steps one way, two steps the other.

Ed’s mind churned. “You know—I’m not to blame here! I was fully justified. Milner has me by the small hairs. I was figuring it out. Just put in a few more hours, pass some packages, smooth things out in certain quarters. And now, this.”

“Ask to be put into a different cell. Anything!”

“You could try.” Ed stopped at the bars and sighed. The kid did deserve a chance still—might as well put in some effort for him. “Your information is good, and the department might continue using you. Not gonna lie, it was stupid getting yourself locked up. But I’ll put in a word—for what that’s worth.”

Declan jumped up and came to the bars, yelling, “Guard! Put me in my own cell!”

Nothing.

“They gotta get you out of here.”

“That’s not how jail works.”

Declan collapsed back on the bench. “…lose control… like last time…!”

“You lost it for a moment. Happens.” Ed shrugged. “Happened to me. Another cop got me out of it—along with a paycheck if I helped out with other things. I needed the money, so… One thing leads to another.” He sobered. “It doesn’t have to.”

“The sun has set.” Something about Declan’s altered tone made Ed focus.

He looked down at his hands spread on his knees. They weren’t clean—anything but.

And now… A job needed to be done.

He couldn’t get out of this by doing things the right way, aboveboard. But he could arrange evidence, get them all looking elsewhere. These assaults… A couple of them had happened in the captain’s neighborhood. Someone from Milner could plant evidence, destroy the captain’s credibility.

Ed might even make it out of this a hero, if he played his cards right. He’d have to explain away the money, but—

“The moon rises,” the new voice stated.

“Yeah.” Ed glanced up at the window.

Declan stood and looked at him, eyes wide. “I’m… sorry. I tried. Warned you…”

Change ripped across the former informant. His head warped, his spine broke free, bones jerked into new shape, clothes tore and fell away, and thick gray fur sprouted along every inch.

A wolf.

The creature threw its head back, snarled, and howled.

Ed staggered back against the gate. “Holy—! Guard, guard!”

The werewolf turned on him.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Abigail Falanga may be found in New Mexico creating magic in many ways – with fabric, food, paper, music, and especially with words! She’s loved fantasy ever since playing out epic adventures of swords, fairies, and monsters with her siblings, and loved sci-fi since her dad’s stories around the dinner table. Besides sharing mad little stories on Havok, she is busily trying to launch approximately five hundred novels into the world. Some of them are even finished!

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